


I Always Knew

by SopranoSunshine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst and Humor, Beaches, Bullying, Character Transformation, Cliche, Crying Castiel, Crying Dean, Deception, Eventual Happy Destiel, First Time, First Time Bottoming, First Time Topping, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Mainly Destiel, Major Character Injury, Mentions of Cancer, No I'm Serious It's Cliche As Fuck, Secret Relationship, Theatre, Work In Progress, idk yet i'm still figuring this out, possibly fwb?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 05:56:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3966946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SopranoSunshine/pseuds/SopranoSunshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Tough guy" Dean Winchester wants nothing more than to pass (and forget about) his theatre class. When this proves to be nearly impossible on his own, he has to seek help from the UCLA transfer student - Castiel Novak. A beautiful friendship forms as relationships fall apart, exams come and go, and families are broken. Months of tension are finally relieved at the biggest frat party of the year and as a result, newfound romance and a childish dare are accompanied by lies, tears, and a secret that could ruin Dean's reputation and destroy his ambition of living up to his father's expectations. </p><p>[I wish there was a chapter-by-chapter rating system but as of now, I'll just have to go with Explicit although the majority of chapters will be Mature. As a side note, if you're looking for a fic heavy in Jo/Dean or Jess/Sam, this isn't it.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Talk To Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [endversecas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/endversecas/gifts), [AnnaNocturnal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaNocturnal/gifts).



> Title taken from a song by The Vaccines. This is a WIP so the title and minor details may change. I might even get so productive that I add nicer chapter titles. Probably not. (As it stands, chapter titles are taken from the same song.)
> 
> I've been writing for a long time, but I have this horrid habit of starting stories and not finishing them. I promise I won't let that happen to this work. I'm going to attempt to update as frequently as I can. I fell off for a while there but I'm back. 
> 
> This story actually formed in my mind in the fall of 2013 as I sat in theatre class almost asleep - however unlike Dean, I really do enjoy theatre and fine arts - when a boy walked in looking like Cas. I later saw a play in which this boy wore a trench coat and knew something had to be written. This draft had been collecting dust in my folder of fics ever since, until a while back when I found it and decided that I had to refurbish and publish it, no matter how atrocious. Enough of my babbling, thank you so much endversecas for your ideas and advice, and everyone else enjoy the cliche college!destiel. I'm serious about the tags; the angst and drama hit One Tree Hill levels at times.

 

**_"Theatre...is the art of the possible."_ **

Dean Winchester wished he were somewhere else, **anywhere** else right now. He had no clue what theatre had to do with sports management or why he had to be here, but he knew he didn't enjoy it in the least. He was aware that some people cared about men in tights and costumes and Shakespeare, but he wasn't one of those select few individuals. He had made it through various math and psych classes without a second thought, but right now he was surrounded by holier-than-thou fine arts majors whom he couldn't resist picturing in knitted beanies and drinking Starbucks in their spare time. He could already tell that he was going to fucking hate this class.

**_"If you can dream it, you can be it! Just think about how all adversity leads us to..."_ **

He could barely focus on the first lecture, his vision blurring with fatigue. It was the second day of class and from what he'd heard, he knew it would only get worse. At least he wasn't alone in his misery; he was flanked on both sides by friends and fellow members of his fraternity. To his right sat Benny, playing a game on his cell phone and looking just as disinterested as Dean, and his brother Sam sat on his left, taking notes as if theatre was the most interesting subject in the world. How hard was it to remember something so simple? And why waste time on it in the first place? Although Sammy could probably watch grass growing and somehow find that interesting.  
  
Dean stretched his arms, listening to various joints pop - even _that_ was more interesting than the theatre lecture at this point. After a few more moments he rubbed at his eyes, trying to keep himself awake. It felt like he had already been sitting here for an hour but as he glanced at his cell phone he groaned, realizing that he still had forty minutes to suffer through. What felt like an eternity passed before Dean noticed that the professor had abruptly stopped talking; a student who had trouble finding the room had come in late. Dean shifted his focus to a man with piercing blue eyes, black rimmed glasses, and raven hair. The man looked to be just a few inches shorter than Dean, wearing tan khaki pants and a pastel teal button down. He made his way up a few steps and sat directly in front of Dean, next to a brunette boy Dean seemed to recall being named Gabe. Dean couldn’t remember ever seeing the man before. Benny chuckled, nodding to the black haired boy and nudging Dean with his elbow.  
  
"It's gonna be fun to fuck with this guy."  
  
Dean rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He had known Benny since high school and he wasn't sure how the man had made it into The University of Kansas. Benny's mind was stuck in high school and Dean often wondered if his friend would ever grow up. After another moment of mentally berating Benny, Dean turned his eyes to the boy in front of him again. He watched as Blue Eyes pulled a crisp notebook out of his backpack, beginning to take notes in handwriting that was neater than any Dean had ever seen before.  
  
"Probably not worth our time. Seems boring to me," Dean whispered back, feigning disinterest. It was easier to shrug off Benny’s comment than to attempt telling him how much of an idiot he was being.  
  


* * *

  
  
Allowing a deep sigh to escape from his lungs, Cas kicked off his uncomfortable shoes and flopped down onto his bed. His roommate Gabriel had been in the dorm when Cas arrived, relaxed and bored. Gabe was currently lounging against the wall and typing lazily on his laptop, eating through a bag of tootsie rolls.  
  
"Long day?" Gabriel's voice was animated, despite his slouching and seemingly disinterested posture. Cas had known the man since kindergarten and he had always had one of the most enthusiastic voices Cas had ever heard, no matter the situation.  
  
"You have no idea," Cas said, staring at the ceiling. "I was late to three of my five classes, I spilled coffee all over my brand new biochem book, and I have blisters from running around campus all day like an idiot in those shoes. Long doesn't even begin to describe the day I had."  
  
"Aw. KU not as amazing as big bad UCLA?" Gabriel teased his friend, closing his laptop.  
  
"It's not that. I mean, of course I miss UCLA, but I just never expected to feel so out of place here. I can't help but feel like I've downgraded my educational experience."  
  
"This is why you shouldn't have skipped orientation. I'm sure you'll get used to it after a couple of days. Besides, it's only for one semester anyway, right?" Cas nodded silently. He had only transferred to KU because of his father's declining condition. It was the university closest to his home and by autumn, he would be back at UCLA, starting his senior year. For Cas, the time couldn't pass quickly enough. “And that orientation thing wasn’t my fault, thank you very much. The flight got delayed.”  
  
"Why don't you join a club? I'm sure there's something a huge science nerd like you can enjoy. No offense."  
  
"None taken. And there's no point. Like I said, I'll be leaving as soon as this semester is over. I don’t want to commit myself to something and then just leave. Don't get me wrong, it's nice to be back near home with you and my family, but this place isn't UCLA by a long shot."  
  
Gabriel sat up, closing his laptop and grinning at his friend. "Well. I'm glad you're here even if you aren't."  
  
Cas chuckled, suppressing a yawn, "Thanks Gabe."  
  


* * *

  
  
Dean didn’t see the intriguing black haired boy again until the following Friday. The man was sitting down at a booth outside of a “Roasterie” coffeehouse vendor, opening a laptop, what looked like a chemistry book, and snacking on bright red raspberries. Currently seated at the end of his table, Dean kept stealing glances in the man’s general direction. He hoped Blue Eyes wasn’t getting lost anymore.  
  
“Dean, can you at least pretend to care?” Dean’s girlfriend, Jo, had poked his bicep, pulling him out of his thoughts.  
  
“What, babe? Sorry, I uhm,” Dean fumbled to find an excuse, “I’ve had a horrible headache ever since last night. What were you saying?”  
  
“She was asking you if you had any ideas for Delta U’s spring break party yet.” Sam answered for her, stuffing one of O’Zone’s famous calzones into his mouth.  
  
Jo smiled at Sam, neatly folding up the wrapper from her already-eaten sub sandwich. “Thanks, Sam. At least one of the Winchesters knows how to listen.”  
  
“Hey, I listen plenty,” Dean defended himself, continuing to messily eat his buffalo wings. "And why are you worrying about that so early anyway? It's months away."  
  
Jo sighed at her boyfriend’s reply. “I’m not worrying about it, I’m just thinking about it - and I’m doing that because I actually care. Unlike some people here. You realize that Delta U and Zeta have had joint Spring Break parties every year for as long as anyone at KU can remember, right? This is important, Dean.”  
  
This was probably the fifth lecture Dean had suffered through about Jo’s sorority and his own fraternity in the past month. Dean wasn't entirely sure though, because if he was being honest, he tried to block out as many of Jo's rants as he could. It wasn't that he didn't care about the party, he just didn't make it his first priority. For Jo’s sake, he tried to nod along and seem interested when absolutely necessary, but he was starting to wear thin. It was just a party. Sure it was important, but it wasn't that important.  
  
“Okay, Jo. I’m sorry. We can start planning whenever you want.” Dean stood, taking Jo’s trash along with his own and glanced at the blue eyed man once more before heading toward the trash bin.  
  


* * *

  
  
Dean woke up groggy with his head throbbing. He vaguely remembered drinking last night. After a few hazy moments he became aware of the warm naked body and mess of blonde hair lying next to him. He whispered an endless mantra of _please be Jo, please be Jo, please be Jo,_ until he swallowed back his quickly-approaching nausea and gently turned the girl over to discover that she was, in fact, Jo. That was one bullet dodged for the day. He glanced at the clock and muttered a string of curses under his breath. Dean dressed himself, searched for his nearly dead cell phone, and stuffed what he thought he would need for the day into his backpack before escaping the room that smelled of vomit and whiskey. Making his way down the stairs and out of the frat house, he realized what a mess he and his housemates had made the night before and internally cursed himself for thinking that drinking so late on the Sunday before he had two huge tests was a great idea.  
  
Dean had just barely enough time to grab a coffee at the closest Roasterie vendor before booking it to his accounting principles class. Fifty five minutes and one black coffee later, Dean was much more awake. He had a sinking feeling that he had failed his test, but that was the least of his worries. His theatre class was approaching fast, and that meant his second test of the day. Although that also meant that he would see Blue Eyes - and somehow that made the class worth it.  
  
Dean was early. He had practically sprinted to the theatre building and was trying to slow his breathing when Blue Eyes walked in, surprised to see Dean so early. The air felt thick and crowded despite the fact that there were only two people breathing it. Dean occupied himself with his cell phone until more people began flooding in.  
  
“Time!” After nearly an hour passed, the overly-enthusiastic professor stopped her cell phone timer and began organizing papers on her desk.  
  
“Now if you have a few extra minutes to spare after you turn in your test, I can grade it here and give you an update on your average.”  
  
Allowing Sam, Benny, and Blue Eyes to walk down the steps ahead of him, Dean stalled idly in line, crumbling the corner of his test paper and then smoothing it out, over and over again. When it was his turn, he handed the piece of paper over, preparing for the worst possible outcome. At least professors couldn't give negative numbers for grades. That was a plus.  
  
As Dean waited, watching the white and red test card disappear into a scanning machine that looked very similar to a printer, a loud clatter startled him and he turned to see Blue Eyes staring with an unamused expression at his own textbook. Dean knew instantly that it had fallen from the shorter man’s arms because papers and essays had spilled from the thin pages and all over the maroon carpet of the room. No one bothered to help Blue Eyes, so Dean bent down and began to collect the pages, glancing at the grades and unmistakable handwriting. The man had all A’s and a couple of B’s. It didn’t surprise Dean in the least.  
  
“Thank you,” the raven-haired man sighed, turning his textbook rightside up and smoothing out the pages that had crumpled against the hard floor.  
  
Dean shook his head, trying to arrange all of the papers so that they were facing the same way. “No problem, man.”  
  
Blue Eyes stood first, flipping his book up and shoving it into his backpack now that class was over. Dean stood soon after and handed the papers over. The shorter man took them, grateful.  
  
“I’m Dean.” Dean introduced himself, feeling awkward.  
  
“Cas.” Cas reached out, about to offer Dean his hand before deciding against it and letting his hand fall. He was being very formal. “Uh...it’s nice to meet you. Most people don’t stop to help the new guy.”  
  
Dean shrugged, “Guess I’m not most people. If you need help with anything else, I’d be glad to be of assistance.”  
  
Cas didn’t know how Dean had meant that, but the taller man’s face was relatively stoic so he assumed Dean was just being nice.  
  
“Thank you.” Cas nodded.  
  
The professor cleared her throat, nudging Dean’s paper toward him and taking the next student’s test card. Dean groaned, the large fifty-one in red ink staring back at him. Underneath it, circled, was a forty-nine, his average. Only a week into the class and he was failing already.  
  
Cas winced before speaking, walking alongside his taller classmate now. “Not that it’s any of my business at all, but if _you_ happen to need assistance with anything, I was just approved to do private tutoring on Sundays in the library.” Cas’ smile was kind.  
  
“Thanks, man. I might just take you up on that.” Dean crumpled up his test, shoving it in his backpack’s side pocket.


	2. Like a Beam of Light

"The words are all starting to blur together, Cas!" Dean whined, rubbing his eyes vigorously. He and Cas sat in the middle of the nearly empty student lounge, both of their theatre books splayed open, notes everywhere.

"Well maybe if you had went to sleep at a decent time last night, you could concentrate, Dean." Cas' voice was condescending.

“That’s not it. It’s just this class. I swear theatre wasn’t meant to be studied.” Dean smirked, “It should just...be. I’m poetic, see?”

Cas rolled his eyes but grinned nonetheless. “Well believe what you like but just letting it ‘be’ won’t get you a passing grade, unfortunately.”

Dean knew Cas was right.

“So...why don’t you and Benny switch seats and I can cheat off of your paper and Sam’s paper and then I’ll pass?” Dean was only half-joking.

Cas’ amused expression fell and he looked over at Dean, completely serious now. “Because I have never cheated on anything and I’ve never let anyone cheat off of me - and I’m not starting now. You know if you put half as much effort into studying as you did into hatching plans to wreak havoc with the fraternity, you’d be passing.”

Dean winced, “Ouch, Cas. I thought we were friends here.”

Cas closed the dark blue theatre book and stretched back in his seat before answering, “Yes but I’m not going to sugar-coat things for you. Being honest and raw is just part of who I am. I’m not giving you false hope. I’m telling you if you don’t study more, you’re going to fail this class and have to sit through it again.”

Dean sighed and nodded, “Thanks, Cas. But since you mentioned the fraternity-”

“I’m not joining it.” Cas said, deadpan.

Dean chuckled, “I knew better than to ask that. What I was going to say was we’re having a small party next Friday night. If you’re not doing anything you should stop by.”

Cas squinted at Dean, “You’re being serious?”

“Yeah! You’re more than welcome to come, man. It’s like a pre-party for the huge Spring Break party. Jo’s idea of course. But it’ll be fun. It’s at Delta U.”

“...You’re sure no one will mind?” Cas asked, hesitantly.

“Of course no one will mind. Hell, even if they do, they’ll all be too drunk and stoned out of their minds to do anything about it.”

Cas snorted a laugh, fiddling with the edges of his theatre textbook. He wasn’t sure a frat party was something he would enjoy. Back at UCLA, he had mostly kept to himself when it came to fraternities and parties. He’d be lying if he said he’d never taken a drink - even before he was 21 - but he had never actually been drunk before, and the main event at parties like this was usually being mind-numbingly drunk off of your ass.

“Come on, Cas.” Dean pulled Cas out of his thoughts, “It’ll be fun. You don’t seem like the party type, but trust me, I’m not really either. Honestly the most entertaining thing to do at these parties is to watch what everyone else does once they’ve had a few drinks.”

Cas nodded, “I don’t doubt that.”

He picked at his book a moment more before answering.

“I’ll think about it. I promise. It does sound kind of fun.”

“Ha! That’s the spirit!” Dean clapped Cas on the shoulder.

“Speaking of spirits. Many believe that Joe displays alcoholic tendencies during many of his scenes. How do you think that shapes his interactions with his family?”

Dean rolled his eyes, frustrated. “Again with this Shadow Box stuff? I don’t know Cas, they know he throws really great parties?” Dean hated this so much.

“You know reading the play in its entirety is a good idea. And you might even know what I’m talking about half of the time-”

Dean’s phone ringing promptly interrupted Cas.

“Oh, would you look at the time. We both have another class in 5 minutes. What a shame.” Dean didn’t seem the least bit upset about it.

“Then I guess you’re free. Go on. And study sometime today, Dean. I mean it.” Cas huffed, tired.

Dean chuckled at the shorter man’s frustration and gathered his backpack and books.

“Oh hey - Cas.” Dean scratched the back of his neck and adjusted his backpack’s straps, “You should sit with me and Sammy at lunch today. I can’t get on your last nerve if you’re sitting all alone. Peaceful and whatnot.”

Cas shook his head, chuckling. “Yeah yeah, I hear you. See you later, Dean.”  
  
  


* * *

 

“‘The Shadow Box’ is used as a teaching tool so often because it gives one of the most dynamic and well-rounded perspectives on death and the dying process - something all of us have to face eventually. Although the play premiered in 1975, it continues to be a tremendous hit every time it is performed simply due to Michael Cristofer’s tact at dealing with such tender subject matter. There are no moral conclusions drawn and that’s the beauty of it all.”

Her rambling seemed endless to Dean. He was halfway listening, halfway trying not to. He didn’t doubt the validity of her statements, Veerinch just seemed to go on without end - or point - and it was starting to make his head ache.

“It’s honestly one of my personal favorites. So that’s why my theatre troupe and I are going to be putting together our very own production of ‘The Shadow Box.’” And there was the point. Dean didn’t know if she was bragging or going somewhere else with this.

“Why am I telling you all any of this? One of my favorite mottos in life is ‘If you can’t do by learning, learn by doing!’ and that has never been more true than it is now. What better way to become acquainted with the environment and atmosphere of a theatre production than by immersing yourself in it?”

The entire class responded with either annoyed groans and sighs or delighted chatter - there was no in between.

“Now this isn't a requirement,” the professor spoke over the students’ reactions and her words caused quite a few of the noises to cease completely.

Thank God, Dean thought.

“However! I highly encourage all of you to participate; I believe theatre and art nourishes the spirit. The therapeutic effects have been documented in many studies…”

Suddenly, during a pause in Veerinch’s speech, someone brave called out:  
“What's in it for us as students, though?”

The entire room was silent. If Dean could get any sort of grade boost he couldn't afford to pass it up.

“Extra credit?” Cas asked.

It was a reasonable idea. Earning credit for participating in a production for theatre class was more than appropriate.

Veerinch sighed heavily. “I've made it very clear how I feel about extra credit.”  
There was a long pause. “But since this quarter will soon be over - and judging by the grades as of now, quite a few of you will need that extra help during the next quarter - I will bargain with all of you. You can earn 20 points if you try out for a part in the play or volunteer as stagehands. 30 points if you land a part and keep it or are promoted to head stagehand. And 10 points for going to see any of the art shows or productions during the semester, as we had previously discussed.”

Loud laughing and whooping began after Veerinch stopped speaking, Benny being the loudest as per usual.

“Now don't get too excited. You can use them on anything except exams of course, so we can substitute them for missing homework grades, quiz grades, or even just add them on to an existing low score.”

More than fair, Dean thought.

But this meant he'd have to be in a production. With other people. Most of them Fine Arts majors and the like. And Dean couldn't act his way out of a paper bag. Dean remembers being required to be in a play back in elementary school, fourth grade if he remembers correctly. Dean really wanted to be the lead. He thought he might actually even have a chance, too, before they made him sing. Nevertheless, he was a pretty great tree in the end. If there was a singing part he would need more than a miracle to land a role. Veerinch proceeded to rattle off times and dates for auditions and Dean's hands were already starting to sweat. Soon after the class was dismissed, Cas immediately made his way to still-sitting Dean through the crowd of rushing students. He didn't even give Dean a chance to speak before beginning with, “you need this.”

Dean sighed heavily, “Yes Cas, I know. I'm going to do it. I guess.”

“Yeah, you don't really have a choice, so…” Cas trailed off.

“Sometimes you're an asshole. A smart asshole, but an asshole none the less.”  
Dean stood and began walking out of the classroom alongside Cas.

Cas nodded, “I've been told. It's only because I'm always truthful. Being to-the-point has always been a strength and a weakness of mine.”

Dean nodded and push the button to call the elevator up. Their Fine Arts building was perfectly acceptable, but Veerinch wanted a real lecture classroom. So that's why Cas, Dean, and all the other theatre students had to trudge across campus to Carter Hall and up two floors to discuss theatre.

“I'm going to try out too. A little extra credit couldn't hurt my grade.”

Dean stared at Cas in disbelief. “What, a 108 isn't good enough?”

Cas chuckled, “My grade’s a 91. I skipped some homework to study for my biochem test.”

“Well if you get a part and I don't, for the love of all that is sacred, please donate it to me.”

Dean’s green eyes were desperate and Cas smiled.

“I wouldn't dream of accepting it if you didn't get one.”

“Good.”

The next day at lunch Cas was nowhere to be seen. Dean received a text four bites into his burger letting him know Cas’ biochem test had run a little longer than usual but he would be there shortly.

“Cas will be on his way. Biochem.”  
Dean put his phone down and took another bite.

“What's with you and this short guy?” Benny asked, taking another drink of his ROCKSTAR.

“You’re following each other around like lost puppies.”

Dean scoffed and spoke sarcastically, “Well I mean it’s better than just you following me around like a lost puppy.”

Benny didn’t seem amused with Dean’s humor.

“I’m kidding.” Dean was actually only halfway kidding. He liked Benny a lot, but ever since high school, Benny had tried to talk Dean into doing everything together. The same sports teams, the same haircuts, the same clubs, the same girlfriend almost. And Benny’s mind was still stuck at Lawrence High School. He called Dean “brother” - something he couldn’t leave in the deep south after moving from Louisiana to Kansas in his junior year. It was also something that urked Sam about Benny. Dean didn’t want to hurt Benny, but he couldn’t help but feel smothered. Benny was a nice guy - once you got past the prejudices like racism and homophobia.

Suddenly Jo approached the table with a container of salad and a deep lavender-colored smoothie. She sat next to Dean, quickly pecking his cheek with her bright red lips before popping the lid off of her salad.

“Hey boys.” She seemed like she was happy today, Dean thought.

It was rare these days to see Jo genuinely happy. She was very close to her mother and being so far away from her was hard for Jo. She was a cheerleader so she had to smile a lot, but Dean had learned the difference in her “go team go” smiles and her “I’m actually happy” smiles. The latter had been few and far between these days.

“So do you have any ideas for the party? If you don’t that’s totally okay, I’ve been working on a few things.” She was definitely in a good mood.

“I have thought about it. I was thinking maybe we could make it a themed party. Charlie works at Party City, she could get us some stuff 20% off if we wanted. Tiki or beach themes are always in for spring, especially since we’ll be going to the beach the Sunday after. But we could be a little more original. Easter Island or Hawaii themed, maybe?”

Dean grinned at Jo’s surprised expression. She didn’t expect that. Jo beamed, leaning over to press her lips against Dean’s. She pulled away briefly, only to slant her lips over his again. When she pulled away, Dean had a red smudge on the side of his upper lip and Jo giggled at the sight of it. Dean remembered to research some spring break themes last minute; it wasn’t really a big deal, but that was the thing about Jo. The little things meant the most. Dean lived for moments like this with her.

“So I have to try out for a play,” Dean broke the silence after a few minutes.

Silent up until this point, Sam laughed and continued to do so for a full minute, even after Jessica arrived with her lunch, sitting down next to him.

Dean just nodded, waiting on his little brother’s chuckles to cease. “Yeah, laugh it up at my bad acting, Sammy. Don’t forget I know things about you no one in their sane mind should ever have to live knowing.”

Sam’s laughter died down and he conceded, “Okay. I’m sorry. But wow. That director has his work cut out for him.”

Dean sighed, “Oh don’t be so sexist, Sam. She. She has her work cut out for her. And that’s being gratuitous, we don’t know I’ll even get a part.”

“Well I’ve got faith in you, Dean.” Jess chimed in, poking his shoulder as she stood and left to get another coffee. She would make the best sister-in-law one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it only took a year for a second chapter - most of which was written during a beyond-boring internship at an endocrinologist's office. Taking blood and vitals is my thing, answering calls and making appointments? Not so much. Why diabetes and hypothyroidism made me write 10 pages of this on notebook paper? That will probably remain a mystery to us all. I've discovered I have a minor heart condition, been accepted into nursing school (finally), graduated as an EKG tech/medical assistant/phlebotomist (so I'm a vampire now?), and worked as a clerk/cashier/attendant all within a year's time. So hopefully since I've learned to juggle things much more effectively, maybe I can post more often? I didn't abandon this and I have it planned out to the end, so I swear I'll keep working on it. Thank you all immensely for your mind-boggling amount of patience. Let me know what you think!


End file.
